Walk with me on a blustery day
Can I know if you heard me say
String when pulled begins to fray
Then rewound, though loosely, stay
Swirling spindles to and fro
Further into night we go
Hard to see the whisping flow
All around somehow I know
Stepping wind that makes us light
Dancing with no end in sight
Away one current for a right
Open span to then take flight
Curled from pressure, tight and wrong.
Twirled composure, now a song.
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